


Prove It

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John claims he could never enjoy gay sex. Brian wants him to prove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prove It

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic from my livejournal. Also: I'm so bad at smut. Please forgive me.

**_Prove It_ ** ****

_“Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally pulled me trousers down and said to him: ‘Oh, fuck it, Brian! Just stick it up me arse then.’ And he said to me, ‘Actually, John, I don't do that kind of thing. That's not what I like to do.’ I said to 'im, ‘Well, then, what do you like to do, what kind of thing do you do?’ He said, ‘I'd like to just touch you.’ So I let him toss me off [...] The poor bastard. He's having a fucking hard time anyway. So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck's sake? No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can't help the way he is."_ —John Lennon to Pete Shotton on the Spain trip

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m just saying, Eppy, what you do with your prick is your business, but _I’d_ never get off on it,” John assured him, taking a swig of his beer. Brian rolled his eyes, already exhausted with the topic. They’d been in Spain for nine days and somehow they’d gotten onto the topic of Brian’s sexuality, _yet again_. It was never a comfortable thing to talk about, but John seemed to like to fixate on it.

“How would you know?” Brian asked him, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve never been with a man, have you?”

John snorted. “Never.”

Brian smiled knowingly. “Then you don’t know what you’re talking about—much less what you’re _missing_.”

John shook his head again. “I’m serious, Ep. I just wouldn’t be able to be, y’know, _satisfied_ with a bloke. You can stick whatever you want up me arse, but it’s not gonna make me scream.” He smirked. “Can you say the same for yourself?”

Brian straightened and looked John in the eye. “If you had a man between your legs, one that knew what he was doing, I guarantee you’d be screaming.”

“Doubtful,” John told him. “I would never come with a man, Ep, I couldn’t.”

“Prove it,” Brian quipped.

John paused. Then he looked up at Brian, a glint of madness in his eyes. “Fine.”

Brian nearly choked on his drink. “What?”

“Let’s do it. I have sex with you, which will be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and if you make me scream, you win. And if you win, I’ll—well, I suppose you’ll already be getting everything you’ve always wanted, won’t you?” John grinned.

“How are you so sure you’ll be amazing?” Brian was determined to keep his voice even, despite the fact that the proposal made him shiver with want.

“Oh, my dear little queer, you’ll be amazed, that I promise you.”

 _You’re drunk,_ Brian almost said. But he didn’t. His stomach suddenly filling with a million butterflies, Brian replied, “Prove it.”

John swallowed down the last of his beer, smiling brightly. “Better get ready, you’re going to have a hell of a night.” He stood up, tossing some money onto the table.

“John,” Brian said, swallowing hard. “You’re—you’re not serious.” _Please be serious_ , he thought.

John smirked. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you, for me to back out at the last moment? You _know_ I’m going to win. You’ll be the one screaming, mate.”

Brian was trying not to go weak in the knees. “John.”

“Eppy! Are you coming, or what? This is the only chance you’ll have to have your fuckin’ queer way with me.” John trotted off, a crazy smile on his face.

Brian put a bit more money on the table—John hadn’t bothered to check how much beer costed in Spain—and followed him out.

• • • • • • • •

When they got into Brian’s hotel room, John locked the door swiftly and threw his jacket onto the side table. He raised his eyebrows suggestively at Brian. “C’mon, then, baby, let’s give ‘em a show,” he said in the most ridiculous voice possible.

Brian didn’t even know what to think. “This isn’t a good idea,” he said finally.

“Tell that to your stiffy, mate,” John pointed out smugly.

Brian felt the blush creep onto his cheeks. It was embarrassing, really, that the mere _idea_ of John and him—oh god, John and him _together_ —had gotten him going so quickly. “We shouldn’t, John.”

John moved forward so quickly that it startled him, and suddenly arms were around Brian’s waist and John Lennon’s face was inches from his. “C’mon, Eppy. Don’t tell me this”—he thrusted his hips forward—“isn’t turning you on.”

Brian’s breath hitched in spite of himself. John smiled, satisfied. He wasn’t sure what was making him do this—why _was_ he coming onto his manager, for fuck’s sake?—but for some reason he did not to stop. There was a certain power he had over Brian, some exhilarating, perverted power that was driving him on.

“You’re drunk,” Brian whispered when John brought his head closer.

“And you love it.”

“John…”

“Are you saying you don’t want to do this?” John asked, pulling Brian closer, their noses almost touching.

 _Yes, tell him you don’t want this,_ Brian thought, _tell him he’s bloody mad, he’s John Lennon for god’s sake._ But instead what came out was a soft “I want it,” and John closed the space between them. Brian was still at first, trying to take in the feeling of those soft, pink lips against him. But then it was John’s turn to be surprised as Brian bruised his lips against his, making small noises, deliciously _un-Brian_ noises.

“ _Mm_.” They broke the kiss, gasping, and John tugged at the collar of Brian’s suit. “Let’s see what wonders are hidden beneath, eh?”

Brian took his clothes off himself, not sure he wanted John’s hands on him quite yet. It was a ridiculous thought, considering the situation, but all of a sudden he was inexplicably shy.

John wasn’t attracted to men— _I’m not, I swear I’m not_ , he thought—but he could certainly appreciate the beauty of the male physique, and Brian was, well, stunning. He was thin and pale, had no muscles to be seen and a suspicious lack of hair in certain areas, but there was something about his body that made John stop and stare.

Brian’s face was flushed, from arousal and something that neighbored embarrassment. John felt his prick twitch as he scanned down Brian’s exposed body. John moved closer, his breath tickling Brian’s cheek as he whispered, “Are you ready?”

Brian nodded wordlessly, knowing that if a moan came out of his mouth before things had even started, John would laugh him out of Spain. He trembled, hating himself for being so eager and needy. But it was _John_ they were talking about here, _John_ who was looking at him with wolfish delight. _John_ who was inches away from his naked body. Part of him wanted John to keep all of his clothes on and dominate him, humiliate him, fucking _own_ him…

John grinned, somehow seeming to pluck Brian’s thoughts out of thin air. “Fuckin’ queer.” He pulled his shirt off over his head and kicked off his trousers, finally removing his boxers, almost casually. His cock, only half-hard, needed to be dealt with. Brian turned bright red when John closed his eyes, bit his lip, and began pumping himself, slowly at first. It was quite a sight, John Lennon in such a position, but the nagging thought that he wasn’t enough to get John excited bothered Brian.

John grunted, spreading precome around with his thumb. “C’mon then, love. The bet does involve us together.” Brian took a step forward, and John shook his head, motioning for him to turn around. “On the bed,” he instructed, his voice low. Brian shivered and obliged.

John climbed on top of Brian, looking down at him inquisitively, running his hands down his chest as if mapping him out. “Bit different from a bird, yeah?” John mused, running his fingers across Brian’s collarbone and down to his nipples. He stroked for a moment, circular motions, and pinched. Brian inhaled sharply, his mouth parting. John smiled broadly and pinched again. “That’s the same, then.” Brian realized that this was more than just a bet for John; it was a new experience.

“I wonder what would happen…” John murmured, and bent down to lick Brian’s nipple.

Brian, who was trying so hard not to make any humiliating noises, whimpered. John looked delighted. “Learnin’ so _much_ about you today, Eppy,” he said cheerfully, and sucked at his nipple again, his hands roaming down to Brian’s hips, stroking lazily.

Brian squirmed, wanting to reach out but afraid of John’s reaction. John seemed to sense this, because he laughed and said, “Eppy, I’m about to stick it up your arse, y’know. You can touch me.”

Hesitantly, Brian reached up to touch John’s hair, threading his fingers through auburn locks, trembling. John watched him. His satisfied smile had faded, just a bit, replaced by a look of curious awe. “Brian, you’re…”

Brian froze, pulling his hand away. “I’m…?”

John shook his head, biting his lower lip. “I dunno. You’re…well…you’re a bit beautiful, is all.”

Brian felt the flush on his cheeks, unsure of what to say, or if John was serious or not. _He’s gone soft, he has,_ Brian thought, but he had to try hard not to break into a stupid smile.

Then John grinned, wrapping his hand around Brian’s neglected member. Brian inhaled sharply. “J-John,” he stammered, and John began to move, leaning in for another kiss that Brian accepted hungrily. For someone who’d never had a man before, John moved like he was an expert.

Brian moaned, and John laughed amid kisses. “You should make that sound more often,” John murmured. “It suits you.”

Brian tried not to thrust up into John’s hand. “I thought the deal was _I_ make _you_ scream—” Brian began, but John squeezed once, causing him to groan.

“In good time, Ep,” John assured him. “I’m having too much fun with you at the moment.” And indeed, John looked like he was having too much fun, like he enjoyed seeing Brian’s eyes widen to their full capacity, got off on the sounds Brian failed to repress.

“Are you holding back, Eppy?” John teased, his strokes consistently slow, _achingly_ slow. John was playing with him, he knew, and he was becoming more and more unwound with each motion of the man’s hand—why couldn’t he go a bit faster? Brian thought desperately, but John kept the tempo, slow…slow…slow…

“John!” Brian gasped suddenly, his voice breaking. “Stop fucking with me, alright?”

“Oh,” John said, his voice soft. “You want a bit more?”

“Yes, Jesus, I _need_ it…”

John leaned down to suck on Brian’s lower lip. “As long as you ask nicely.” John gave him a quick squeeze before he began jerking Brian up and down, faster and harder than before. The change was almost too much for him to bear; he could already feel a climax building… If it had been anyone else, he might have let them finish him off. But no, this was John. If Brian was to have one night with John Lennon, he wasn’t going to come from a fucking _handjob_.

“Stop, stop—Jesus Christ—” Brian grabbed at John’s hand, steadying it.

John was confused. “Not good?” he asked, looking a bit disappointed.

Brian panted. “No…no…that was good, John, it was…God. It was good.”

“Then what?”

Brian chuckled. “You’re going to finish me off before we even start.”

“Ah.” Suddenly John looked a bit nervous. He’d spent enough time in Hamburg to know how queer sex worked—more or less. You take the lube, oil up, and stick it in. And, somehow, it was supposed to feel good.

Brian watched the redness creep across the younger man’s cheeks. Hesitant, John said, “D’you have, y’know, the…?”

Brian pointed to the bedside table. “First drawer.”

John retrieved a small tube and returned to the bed, noticing for the first time how good Brian looked there, hard and naked and waiting. A hot surge of want pulsed through his body. He cleared his throat. “So I just…”

“Put it on your prick first,” Brian told him. “Then you’ve got to—well—prepare me.”

John made a face. “Lovely.” He slicked up his prick, stroking with relish. He looked back at Brian after a moment. “And I…”

“With your fingers.”

“Yeah.” John bent over, spreading Brian’s legs. Brian gave a shuddery sigh, trying hard not to show how fucking _desperate_ he was for John’s fingers, for the hand on his thigh. John hesitated for a moment, then slid one finger straight in. Brian bit his lip, stiffening, as the slick digit moved inside him.

“And there’s this…” John continued moving tentatively. “This spot, yeah?”

Brian nodded, moving his hips to help him find it, groaning when he did. “There…”

“Here?” He stroked the spot and added another finger, watching Brian’s reaction with great interest. He began thrusting gently, slow fluid movements, curling his fingers before adding a third. Brian responded to each gesture with soft, cut-off gasps.

“God, John, get in me already,” Brian pleaded, all pretense of modesty gone.

“You’re sure?”

“ _John._ ”

John withdrew his fingers, grinning at Brian’s whimper at the loss of contact. “Get ready to make some fuckin’ noise.” Slowly—too slowly, Brian thought—John slid in, letting out a surprised hiss as he did so.

“G-God,” he groaned, eyes wide. “It’s fucking _tight_ , Eppy…”

Brian closed his eyes, mouth parted. “ _Move_ , John!”

John had no trouble obeying; he began thrusting in earnest, moans coming freely from his mouth. “Ahh, _fuck_ yes,” he groaned. “You are fucking _perfect_ , Eppy, y’know that— _Christ_ —”

Brian whimpered in response, lifting his legs around John to pull him closer. Brian tilted his head up, wanting to kiss him but too afraid of the response, when John leaned forward and did it himself. “C’mon, Bri, gimme everything you’ve got,” he murmured, moving down to suck at Brian’s neck.

“Fuck,” Brian responded, his head falling back. He began moving himself down as John thrusted up, rotating his hips ever so slightly to get the best possible angles. “Yes, _fuck!”_ he cried again, clutching at John like a lifeline.

“Eppy…” John growled, “Look at me.” They were both close to release and they both knew it, but John wanted more, somehow needed more dominance, more power. He wanted Brian to unravel at his command. Always such a hedonist, Paul had always said when they were kids—it turned out Paul was right.

“Watch me when I fuck you.” John’s words were breathy and quick, meant to provoke him. “This is _me_ inside you, Eppy, it’s me. I know you watch me when you think no one’s looking. I can feel your eyes on me. How many times a week do you go home thinking about me, huh?”

Brian moaned at this—a lovely, loud moan, full of abandon and lust. He clutched tighter onto John as he rocked, red lips quivering with unsaid words.

“How long have you wanted this, Eppy?” John breathed, teeth scraping against Brian’s jaw. “ _Christ_ , tell me, Ep, how long?”

“S-so long, John— _oh_ —Johnny—since the first night…”

“When you saw us in the Cavern?” John’s thrusts were impossibly deep, filling him to the brim and slipping out again, only to come slamming back. “What— _hhh_ …what made you want it?”

“ _You_ ,” Brian said raggedly, tugging at John’s hair. The electricity flooding through him was about ready to burst, he was almost there, he just needed a bit more— “You and your—fuck—leathers and sweat and your fucking _voice_ —John, Jesus Christ, _I need you—_ ”

John nearly came at those words; it was the sheer determination to win the bet that kept him from orgasm, and he grabbed on to Brian’s cock and pumped once, twice, and felt wet warmth on his hand as Brian screamed, “ _Fuck, John!_ ”

John growled and clutched Brian’s hips, thrusting rapidly, the clenching of Brian’s inner muscles bringing him over the edge. He buried himself as deep as he could and came, his moan coming out as a half-sob.

He pulled out a moment later, gasping for air, his entire body tingling. He touched Brian’s cheek. “Alright?” John asked, his voice coming out as a croak.

Brian laughed softly, splayed limply on the bed. “Yes. And you?”

 _Brilliant, bloody brilliant_ , John thought. But he just smirked and said, “I like it when you scream my name.”

Brian sighed fondly, too spent to retaliate. John went to the bathroom to get a towel, and after they cleaned themselves up, all Brian wanted to do was sleep. And he wanted to sleep with John, but he knew that wasn’t how things were going to work. It had all been a bet—nothing more.

“Well, it’s no surprise that I won, fair and square,” John said, picking his boxers up off the floor and slipping them on.

Brian made a noise of protest. “You hardly gave me a chance, Lennon! You did all the work. It’s not my fault you’re a domineering arse.”

John raised his eyebrows, smiling quite delightedly. “Well, the night’s not over yet, is it?”

Brian’s stomach did a somersault at the implications of John’s statement. “It’s late, though,” he said carefully. “And I’m exhausted.”

John looked at the clock on the wall. “Well,” he said. “You’re being just a _bit_ rude, don’t you think, Eppy?”

Brian frowned. “What’re you on about now?”

“It’s eleven forty-eight, Brian, and you’ve made no offer to invite me to stay the night. Now, given the fact that I undoubtably just gave you the best orgasm of your entire life, don’t you think it would be nice of you to let me stay?” John’s tone was playful, almost mocking.

“Of course you can stay,” Brian replied, a bit too quickly.

John got closer, but didn’t join Brian in bed. “Say it,” he murmured.

“John,” Brian said softly, “stay with me. Please.”

John looked smug as he crawled in next to Brian, but the older man hadn’t missed the excited gleam in his eyes. Unbidden, John wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist and pulled their bodies nearer to each other. Brian froze, hardly daring to think what this might mean. John was, had always been, a mystery to him.

Brian switched off the lamp by the bed, and the room fell into quiet darkness. He lay there, listening to John’s breathing, conscious of the warmth coming from his body, still damp with sweat. “John,” he whispered finally.

The man groaned into Brian’s pillow. “I thought you were exhausted. _I’m_ exhausted. You lasted longer than I’d thought.”

“John, what are you doing?”

There was a long pause, so long that Brian wanted to tell him never mind that, it doesn’t matter. Finally John said, quietly, “I just need to hold you.” When he got no response, he said, “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Brian breathed, and John tightened his grip on Brian’s waist and buried his face in his neck. The action seemed so natural, so… _intimate_. Brian was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him again, slow and soft and delicious, but he resisted. He wasn’t going to get attached. He’d wanted this for so long, but he wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking it would last. No; he knew this was the first and only time.

But when John sighed into his neck and planted a gentle kiss beneath his ear, Brian couldn’t help it that his mind wandered. “G’night, John.”

“Night, Brian.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (10/23/14): There will not be a sequel to this fic, unfortunately. I might come back to it sometime in the future, but right now I'm focusing on school so I don't have much time to write anymore. So sorry, guys!


End file.
